The Things We Do
by CheckHands
Summary: Originally titled "Conversations From a Cell" which is very accurate description of the first several chapters. First fanfic, R&R greatly appreciated. M for language, violence and adult themes later. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

The Things We Do

**A/N** - This story takes place 14 years after the events of FO3, but all relevant info is taken from The Vault (Wiki).

_ Italics = Narrator's thoughts_

Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

It's another cool night in the Wastelands.

The moon and stars are out in full force, giving the sands an ethereal glow as a soft wind brings with it the smell of burnt hair. I look around for the source, but find nothing. In fact, there's nothing around me except for dead trees and sand. No burnt out cars, no billboards, not even the remnants of a building in the distance. Only dead trees and sand.

Something wet and warm hits my face. Coughing out of surprise, I sit up and spit out most of what went into my mouth. I can only taste smoke, but I think it was piss. I feel distant, almost outside of myself. _Am I dreaming? No, but it feels like the only thing keeping me grounded is a constant humming in my ears._ My clothes feel tight or maybe it's just my skin. I hear someone talking, but I'm not sure if he's talking to me.

I wipe a bare forearm across my eyes and look up. The bright lights blind me for a moment, filling my already foggy vision with spots. Only lights are overhead, means there aren't any windows in the room. At least that's good. Everything looks blurry, but I'm pretty sure this is a holding cell. The guy's mouth is moving, but it's hard to keep up when you've got piss in your mouth and ringing in your ears.

"What?" I ask groggily. Head feels heavy, like it's filled with sand.

"Who are you?" The blurry man with the wide-brimmed hat asks in an authoritative tone. There's a shiny star-like pin on his jacket. He looks like the type to want the "Sheriff" title.

"Jake. Where am I?" I respond, wincing as I try to rub my eyes to clear the fog. _I've probably got full-body bruises, fractured ribs and a vicious sun burn to boot._

"Jail." he says. _Thanks jackass, as if I couldn't have figured that out for myself._

"Where? What town?" I mumble, trying to keep my voice low.

He looks at me funny and cocks his head like a dog.

"What town?" I repeat, louder this time and I hate him for making me do it. Head throbs like I drank a bottle of vodka mixed with irradiated pond water.

"Megaton."

"How long have I been out?" He doesn't respond immediately, but I can feel his glare, even in my haze.

"3 days," he says, sounding a bit disappointed. "Red didn't think you'd make it. Should've done the Wastes a favor and just died."

The combination of throbbing pain, bright lights, piss and this asshole are wearing my patience thin. I just want to reach out between the bars and grab him by the throat. Even slapping him a little would suffice, but I sigh knowing I can't do either.

The weathered man continues to hover over me, the room thick with the stench of his murderous intent. I have questions and I bet he has answers, but I'm done dealing with people for the moment. I'm in no mood to play nice, but I also don't need to wind up in a ditch. So, I do what any man in jail not wanting to speak to his jailer would do. I lay down with my back to him, close my eyes and try to ignore urge to vomit.


	2. Chapter 2

The Things We Do

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I hear a loud banging, different from the ringing. I must've fallen asleep 'cause I don't remember the throbbing from a minute ago. I look over my shoulder, not wanting to waste my energy on the Sheriff.

To my surprise, there stands a beautiful woman in a patched, off-white pin-stripe suit with a matching skirt raking a baton across the bars. I hardly notice the pain as I rollover to get a better look. She can't be much older than 25, but could be as young as 20. Her raven hair is long and flowing. Her skin bronzed, but smooth. Even with my impaired vision, I can tell she's definitely not the Wasteland-wandering type.

"You're finally up, I see." she says with a grin, her voice the perfect mix between innocent and sultry. _Very dangerous. _"Here, you'd better eat." She offers, leaning down to hand me a bundle of iguanas-on-sticks.

"No thank you," I decline as politely as my hunger will let me. "I don't…eat flesh." I squint through the lights and try to ignore her display of tender cleavage.

She lets out a heavenly chuckle and asks, "Then what do you eat?"

"Who are you?" I parry, hoping she'll give me a pass.

She gives me a curious look, but lets it go. "I'm Saffron. The town mayor, sort of." she says sweetly, but the underscore of her "sort of" title isn't lost on me.

"Town mayor? But you're so young. You must be very good at what you do." I compliment, trying to angle for a better position in our verbal battle.

"Oh, it's a long story." she purrs with a cute grin. _No bite, looks like I'll have to find some other way to get her off balance._

"I have plenty of time and I can't find an excuse to leave if I don't like your story." I flash my own grin, trying to seem as harmless as a man in jail can. _Face hurts, I must've been lying out in the sun a while before they picked me up._

"All you boys say that." There's a lightness to her tone that makes this feel like something other than a life-or-death Q&A session.

"I guess that means you only talk to trouble makers." I'm trying to stay focused, but it's getting harder. _She came prepared, well-dressed and with a plan of attack. I'm out in the open, more accurately in a corner, and taken by complete surprise. Then there's the way she speaks and the way she stands…_

She says something with a smile, but I don't catch it.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I'm having trouble hearing." I match her smile to cover up my distraction, but I don't think she's buying it.

"I said that and dealing with town drunks." she says a little louder, still with smile on her lips. The volume of her voice reminds me about my throbbing head. "You know, you're probably the most well-behaved prisoner I've met."

"I'm the catch of a lifetime." _A hint self-confidence because no woman likes…who am I kidding? Damn, this lady is good. _

"I agree whole-heartedly." she tells me, leaning forward with another flash of that disarming grin. "Would you like to know why you're being held?" an edge creeps into her voice.

"Sure, why not." _As though I didn't have a clue._

Her face takes on a darker feel; her eyes become colder, but equally beautiful. "The destruction of Arefu and the murder of its citizens." She holds my gaze for a long moment.

I can feel the memories rushing back, like water into an opened sewer. I close the valve and suppress the memories. _Can't crack now._ "I did not murder those people…I saved them…" I reply, but I can't help looking down as my voice trails off.

She stands there a moment before walking away. She speaks a few words to the man on her way out, but I'm so lost in thought, I hardly notice.


	3. Chapter 3

The Things We Do

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

Gun shots, screaming, blood, echoes. That's what I remember when I open my eyes and get blinded, again. I tell myself not to look at the lights, but other thoughts cloud the mental note. I sit up, trying to rub the dreams and pain from my head. Moving is still an exercise in masochism, but at least the ringing is starting to subside. I hear the squeaking of a chair and heavy footsteps approaching. _Must be the man with the badge._

"Name's Lucas Simms, I'm the Sheriff here." he says in a bit of a gruff voice. _Non-smoker, inherently good, but probably likes to make sure people know he thinks he's in charge._ "I don't like you bein' here. I would've ended your pale, skinny ass if Saffron and Red hadn't stopped me." I can feel the venom dripping from his mouth. "In fact, I'd fuckin' end you right now, if you'd give me an excuse."

"Have any blood packs, Sheriff?" I try to sound as pleasant and unthreatening as possible, but it's hard when the hunger headaches are compounded by throbbing pain. I see now that he's much older than his frame would suggest and his face has the lines of an aged man. _He must be good at what he does. Those that live by the gun don't last long. That was especially true before the water got clean...or was it?_

"Blood packs? Red's got some, but they're for the wounded." he answers, almost scoffing. _We both know I fall under the 'wounded' category._

"There should've been some in a pouch I was carrying. Could you please check?"

"You didn't have a pouch when they brought you in." he says flatly. I'm struck by a sense of panic and my heart starts to beat frantically. _If these mother fuckers stole my shi…no, one step at a time._ I take a deep breath and focus on the moment.

"I should've had a sword and a long coat." I tell him, trying to keep the anger from reaching my voice. In that moment that it takes for him to answer, I think of all the ways I'd justify, to myself, ripping out his throat.

"Yea," he informs me, "Guys that brought you in said you wouldn't let go of the sword, even though you were practically comatose." He sounds a bit impressed at my death-grip. I can feel my heart returning to normal, making it easier to be civil. "Pretty fancy stuff you got for a wanderer," he continues, "I'm surprised raiders haven't made a trophy outta' you."

I look at him hard, focusing all my pain, anger and frustration into a razor-sharp stare. Even he looks away. "I'm not a wanderer. I've got a home." I claim, almost to myself.

"Oh, and where might that be?" he asks skeptically in a tone that's more forceful that before.

"Arefu…" That name feels infinitely heavy.

He lets out an incredulous snort and exclaims, "Then you're a wanderer!" I let out a sigh and hang my head. "Not only that, but you've killed everyone who gave you their trust!" He continues, getting louder as his anger starts to rise by the second. "What kind of scum would kill women and children he lived with?" His emotions fuel my feelings of anger and frustration. "No, what kind of man would destroy an entire town that he called home?! Hu…"

I suddenly explode forward and close the short gap to the bars. Even the battle-hardened Sheriff can't twitch before I've gotten close enough to put my knuckles into his throat, but I don't. I stare deep into his eyes, our noses are almost touching. He's so surprised, I can feel him holding his breath. He steps back to the far wall, reaching with his right hand to the assault rifle leaning against it and I kind of wish he would make good on his threat.

His palm touches the stock as he wraps his fingers slowly around the twin metal bars. I can see his mind trying to sort through the options. His instinct, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is telling him to kill me. The other part, the rational part that allows him to make the hard choices to help keep the people safe, is telling him he needs me alive for information.

We stand there facing each other, neither moving. After a long while I sit back down, grunting from the pain. My head is starting to swim from the hunger and I feel on edge. He relaxes a bit and lets go of the rifle, but stays where he is. To my relief, he doesn't talk for the time it takes for me to go back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The Things We Do

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I come out of a dream and bolt up, startling someone in the room. My head spins from the sudden movement and lack of nourishment. I open my eyes slowly and look over to the source of the noise. Though I haven't gotten completely used to the bright lighting, my eyes don't hurt and the details are coming easier. I realize its Saffron, back in her pin-stripe suit. She's still not wearing an undershirt and that puts a grin on my face.

"I heard what happened," she starts from the chair across the metal room. Her tone is still light, but the sweetness is gone. I didn't notice before, but her emerald eyes are deep and alluring. "You should be more careful. He could have shot you on the spot and no one would have thought twice about it."

"I bet you tell that to all the boys." I half-heartedly joke, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the warm metal wall. _Must be daytime, I'm usually sleeping about now._

"I'm serious," she says, crossing her legs. I don't know if it's intentional, but it definitely gets my attention. "The whole town is tense after hearing what happened to Arefu and you being here only puts 'em more on edge. The only thing stopping a mob from coming and taking you away, is me." _I can see the angle she's trying to play, but I suppose I don't really have any other choice. _

"I'll co-operate," I respond, "But first, I need blood packs." She gives me a quizzical look and takes a moment to think.

"No, first you'll tell me what I want to know." she says firmly, seeing an opportunity to increase her leverage. There's something about her that would have me, or any man, trying to please her. The hunger though, keeps me razor-sharp and focused on myself.

"How's this," I counter, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know in exchange for the blood, but I'm not going to be able to give you any answers if I pass out." _It's like my entire being is crying out for the stuff. Been a long time since I've felt this spent. _

"Alright, but you better make good or I'll give you to Lucy." she threatens and heads out the door.

_Lucy…Lucy…That name sounds familiar to me, but I can't quite place it. _All my thoughts jumble together and then, I start to remember the horrified screams coming from Arefu. They pierce the still desert air and echo underneath the overpass.

The slam of the door brings me back and I look up at Saffron with gratitude for something which she has no idea. She tosses a blood pack through the bars, careful not to get too close. I expertly rip it open and suck down the wonderful copper-tasting liquid. I can feel the life coming back to me, as though I haven't been alive since I woke up in this cell.

"Where do you want to start?" I ask, my tone lighter and more alive.

"You're a hematophage?" There's a mixture of disbelief, disgust and curiosity in her voice.

I nod, still savoring the essence of life itself. _Need more, I haven't fed in too long._

"Do you have any connection with The Family who were guarding Arefu at the time of its destruction?" her words are measured, her question formed to guarantee some sort of answer she can use.

"Yes, they were my family. Vance was my father." I reply softly. It's was harder to say out loud than I had imagined. Not because I'm ashamed of them, but because saying it means that I have to come face-to-face with the truth. I dwell on the thought for a long moment before Saffron tosses me another pack. I can't bring myself to savor it like the other and down it quickly.

"Did you destroy Arefu?" she asks slowly, her words and tone still measured.

"Yes." My voice is low, almost like I don't want to hear the answer.

"Why? Tell me the whole story." She can't keep the genuine interest from seeping into her voice.

"For the past year, the raider attacks had been getting worse. Because of its location…have you ever been to Arefu?" I try to stall a bit, still hesitant about having to recall recent events.

"Not in a long time. I passed by there as a child with my parents on our way here." There's a hint of sadness in her voice. The same sadness that tinges everyone's voice when recalling parents who had died before their time. _Those voices that cared, anyway._

"Where did you and your family come from?" I prod, trying to prolong the inevitable, but also genuinely interested. She's no more than a couple years older than myself and has already risen thru the ranks of a town like Megaton.

"Stop stalling, we made a deal." she says flatly. _A business woman through and through._

"As I was saying, because of Arefu's location, the raiders had been trying to take it for their own. The constant threat forced us to make an elaborate blockade and eventually forced us to move closer to the town." I focus, trying to keep my mind from thinking of the people I'll never see again. "About 2 weeks ago, a man arrived at our barricade from Rivet City. He said that the Super Mutants were growing bolder, or more desperate, and were beginning to kidnap whoever they could find. He said that the night he left, he saw a group of them ambush a raider camp." Saffron gives me an impatient look, but it's a look some men would die happily for. "He also said that they were willing to get shot in order to close the distance and grab them up." I wait for a moment, scanning her features before continuing. "What's more, he said they just picked them up and carried them off into the City." Her look changes to one of skepticism, but she holds her tongue "You look like you have something to say."

"I don't believe you." she says bluntly. "First off, Super Mutants are can barely hold a conversation, let alone control themselves enough to get shot just to kidnap people. We've got kids here who could out smart a group of them." She narrows those pretty eyes at me. "Secondly, if this guy was so scared, why'd he stop at Arefu? Why wouldn't he just continue on his way?" At that, I crack a grin and she narrows her eyes even more. "What?" she says, obviously not amused.

"I never said he stayed." My tone is smug and I would kick up my feet, if I had something to put them on and if moving didn't hurt so damn much. "In fact, he left that night saying that he was going as far west as he could. He said he heard some of the guards in Rivet City talking about how the super mutant raids were going further and further north." My tone isn't light anymore. "The night that Arefu was destroyed, everything seemed normal enough, but I knew something was off. My father felt it too. He invited me into his study and we talked for hours, something we had never done." My voice starts to get soft as the images begin flashing through my mind. "I got outside and saw 6 of them, moving their way through the barricades. Not just moving, but ducking and purposefully evading shots. I don't have a lot of experience with them, but I've never seen one move the way they did." I pause, trying to recall exact details.

"What happened then?" she asks, bending down to meet my gaze. Her tone is soft, but commanding.

"It's mostly a blur, but I remember bullets bouncing off the barricades around me." I continue, "At first I thought they were stray bullets, but I realized it was someone in the distance shooting at us. I heard Alan cry out and turned to look." I can see his pained expression in my mind's eye. "Next thing I know, I get hit with a giant forearm and I'm falling over the guard rail. Luckily, I wasn't that far from the ground and managed to roll with the impact. It took me a minute to get myself together and scramble back up the embankment, but by then, the shooting had stopped. I could hear them. All of them, screaming." I can feel the words starting to get stuck in my throat, but force myself to continue. _I have to face this memory, I know it won't disappear as quickly as they did._ "I could hear their screams echo underneath the overpass as the mutants laughed. Then, there was an explosion followed by surprised grunts and shouting. That's when I knew my father had detonated his pack. So I grabbed a couple of mini-nukes and grenades that we kept stashed in the rubble, in case we ever needed to blow the town."

There's a long silence and I can feel Saffron watching me, assessing my every move or the lack there of. Finally, she breaks the silence. "You said your father had a pack?" her tone is cooler, more distant than before.

"Amongst other things, he was known for being an expert swordsman. His preferred weapon was a Shishkebab." I can almost see his ridiculous outfit now. _How many times had I teased him about the oven mitt when I was younger?_

"Those are the flaming swords, right? I always thought wearing a gas tank on your back was a dangerous, especially with bullets flying around." _She's trying to console me and stay unbiased, but she's having trouble or maybe it's a trap. A way to earn my trust._

I look up to meet her eyes and they're softer, not the same feeling as when we started today's session. "Have I earned another?" I ask, holding out my hand. My tone betrays me as the words snag in my throat. She tosses one through the bars from across the room. She has good aim and a fluid throw, the kind that only comes from experience. I drink this one down with the same hurried pace as before.

She's silent while I drink and I can see her weighing the different questions in her mind, the same way she shifts between the three remaining packs. After several moments, she stops and looks at me hard, her eyes now piercing. "Did your father ever try to find where the raiders were coming from to prevent future attacks?" she asks, almost accusing me of lying.

"Yes," I reply without taking offense. "They were coming from Big Town. We even made a couple of night-time raids, but the place was too heavily fortified for us to make any real progress."

"Did you ever contact the Regulators or the Brotherhood of Steel for help?" She asks, still scanning me for any sign of deception.

"The Regulators are so busy with the boom in Raider and Slaver population that they're starting to work with mercs to keep from being overwhelmed. Besides, mercs only care about themselves and money." I pause for a moment, considering the underlying motive for the question. "I'm surprised someone like you doesn't know that."

"Trying to keep a town like this in order, especially with the flood of newcomers doesn't leave much time to find out what's going on out in the Wastes." _Bullshit. Where better to get info from than people who're willing to be extra helpful so they might get the privilege of residency?_ "What about the Brotherhood?" she asks quickly.

"We heard from people leaving the City that the mutants are getting worse and they're really tying up the Brotherhood." I try to keep my tone from getting colder at the discovery of her deception, but I feel a twinge of betrayal. _How stupid, I would do the same thing after all. _

"What'd you mean worse?" There's no perceivable clue, but something tells me she knows about this too.

"I heard that the mutants are getting more organized and are actually starting to ambush the Brotherhood instead of the other way around." I hold back a little, wanting to see if she'll reciprocate. "You haven't heard anything about that?"

"No, I haven't heard of anyone coming from the City in about a month now. You may want to talk to Lucas when he comes back." She says with a bit of a grin, knowing full well I won't talk to the Sheriff. I narrow my eyes in response and she throws me another blood pack to placate me.

"Only two left, you better pick your questions wisely." I tease, pretending not to notice the skill in her line of questioning. She gives me a knowing grin, probably to acknowledge our verbal game.

"Tell me about the Laws of The Family." She says, still grinning. The question catches me off guard for a moment and I try to remember the details of our earlier conversation.

"Well," I start, still trying to figure out her real question. "There are five laws that we must abide." Her reason for this question suddenly dawns on me. "The first law says that we must feed only on blood, not on flesh. The second law states that members cannot bear a child to prevent our sins from being passed down. The third law allows us only to feed for sustenance, not for pleasure. The fourth law says we're not allowed into the sunlight, that we must stay in the shadows. The fifth law – kill not the kindred, only the enemy." The list comes to my mind without thinking. _How many times did I have to repeat them as a child? _

"If the laws prevent members of The Family from having children, how can you claim to be Vance and Holly's son?" It's slight, but I catch her slip. I never mentioned my mother's name, but I pretend not to notice.

"I'm not their biological son, but adopted. I don't remember anything before them, but I apparently wandered into Meresti Train Yard as a young child. The story goes that my mother found me on one of her rare trips to the surface, sleeping in a railcar. She always told me she felt compelled to walk around that night." I can't keep the sadness from touching my voice, recalling my mother and her stories.

Saffron is quiet, digesting the new information. I too sit quietly, wondering how well she knew Arefu and my family. _Arefu. My family._ The thought brings the threat of tears, but I close my eyes and lean my head back to keep them from brimming over. The moments tick past. Each in our own space, but sharing an intimate silence.

The Sheriff enters, interrupting the moment. "No word from Harden yet." He narrows his eyes, as if to threaten me. Saffron looks over her shoulder at the man and tosses me the remaining packs.

"Don't you want to ask your last question?" I ask, putting the packs on my mattress.

"There's plenty of time for questions. We're going to keep to you here until the Regulators come back with some word on what they find at Arefu." She says as casually as if I were a simple drunk being kept over night.

"I didn't know they offered those types of services." I reply, a hint of bitterness creeping into my tone. _If they did, and if Arefu could afford it, I might not be in my present situation._

"They usually don't, but we've got someone on the inside." Her tone tells me that she's responsible for that service to the town, another victory to add to her growing list. I'm starting to understand why she's been appointed as the impromptu Mayor.

With that she walks out, leaving me and the Sheriff to our uncomfortable time together.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Things We Do**

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I'm woken up by slamming of the door and a loud voice. "Wha' ter fack am I subposed to do, huh?" He slurs, "All I can d'is shoot! I can'd faend a job, I can't efen scafenje enough to kofer my drinks!" It's a voice I don't recognize, but he sounds drunk and frustrated. Yelling the entire time it takes to be put into the cell next to mine. The doors to freedom slam shut and the man starts to cry.

Listening to the guy infuriates me. His whining, the blaming of others for his problems, especially someone named MacCready and how things are supposed to be different than they are. I just want to tell him to shut the fuck up and deal, but he says something so profound that I'm caught speechless.

"I need a home, people to know. Where else am I supposed to go?" The man in the next cell slurs between sobs.

No longer able to hold back the memories, I shed tears with the drunk man in the cell next to mine.


	6. Chapter 6

The Things We Do

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I can see the expression clearly on Alan's face. His dark eyes wide, his weathered and wrinkled face twisted in pain as he falls in slow motion. I reach out to him, trying to save him from slipping into the abyss. Our fingertips brush, but I fall short. _I failed him, I failed them. _

I wake up covered in sweat and nearly screaming. More dreams. I sit up rubbing my stiff neck, reawakening the cocktail of pain from my injuries. The metal wall is cool, there's no sign of the Sheriff and the drunk is quiet. _Must be pretty late._ I rip into my last blood pack and drink it slowly, trying to make it last.

_How long has it been since my conversation with Saffron? _The lack of windows and lethargy makes it hard to track time. I consider waking up the drunk, but I have a feeling he needs more sleep before he can hold a real conversation.

Not wanting to go back to sleep, I try to focus on the details of the room. The only furniture is a single chair and desk, lined up against the far wall to the left of the door. The door is about 15 feet from my bars and the room about 20 feet wide. The space is just large enough for two cells. I guess the people here don't act up much, or maybe the Sheriff just deals with them another way. Then again, the buckets used to hold filth is probably enough to deter most of the troublemakers.

I'm slowly regaining the sense of smell and curse the fact. Many years exploring the areas around Arefu and Meresti have acclimatized me to the unpleasant smells of filth and rot. This however, is completely different. To be locked in a windowless room without circulation and buckets filling with filth is truly awful. Being caught between dreams of painful memories and my waking situation of this horrid stench is maddening.

Grunting through the pain, I force myself to stand and begin taking slow steps. Every movement and every breath hurts. I pace back and forth in my cage, staying focused on keeping my steps balanced and silent. I lose myself in this simple act, my only escape from the haunting dreams and the frustrations of reality.

By the time my mind begins to wander, the room is sweltering from the rising sun. I gingerly place myself on the mattress, the pain still present, but not as sharp. _The hours of pacing have at least tired me enough so that I might get some real sleep_.

I lay my head down, back to the bars, and relax my aching muscles. I'm listening to the sounds of a town in full-swing bleed through the thick metal walls when the door slams open. A feeling of rage rushes in with the fresh air.

"Lucas, wait." I hear Saffron, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Get off me woman! He's responsible for Harden's death and I'm gonna' make him pay!" The Sheriff is yelling, almost screaming at the top of his lungs. I sit up to face them, knowing that I must be the topic of conversation.

Lucas glares, his eyes narrowing. I can see the unbridled fury as he stomps purposely toward me, pulling something from his duster's pocket. Saffron stands at the door, a look of worry and shock marring her beautiful features. He opens the cage, swinging the bars so hard they slam against themselves and have to be steadied by his outstretched hand.

I can feel the sheer anger emanating from this man, born of something much darker than what he claims to be. _We all have secrets and he's no different._ Lucas reaches down and grabs me roughly by the shirt, standing me up. _An old man by the Wastes' standards, but still plenty strong_. I keep myself calm, my face almost serene.

"My son's dead 'cause a' you!" He screams in my face, the spit making me squint. "He was a good man and look what you did to him!" He throws me against the wall, causing me to stumble over the mattress. Seeing me off-balance, he cocks his right fist and swings, his punch a looping hook. I push-off the wall and step inside the attack, smoothly moving past him and beyond the confines of the cell.

For just a moment, I consider shoving past Saffron and making a break for freedom. _What would I accomplish? How would my escape help to justify the death and destruction I've caused?_ The moment fades as quickly as it arrived.

I turn to see Lucas with his assault rifle shouldered, giving me a clear view straight down the hollow barrel and I wonder how many others have stood in my place. "Take 'nother step." He growls through clenched teeth, finger on the trigger.

"No, Lucas. Stop." Saffron says in an authoritative tone and steps in front of me, holding out her palm to emphasize the command. She's standing so close, I can smell her sweet fragrance and catch myself wondering if she would taste that good. _What is it about this woman that's so intoxicating?_

There's a moment's hesitation, but seeing her in his sights brings Lucas back from his darker thoughts. He lowers his weapon and steps out of the cell, motioning me back in. _What gives her such power over men? Does it work on women too?_

I walk back, meeting Lucas' fiery eyes and I see him for what he really is. A man hardened by years of bloodshed spilled to help others, only to be repaid through loss and pain. Now that his moral compass has broken, he's a violent man needing an outlet for his rage.

He slams the cage closed and walks out, never looking up to meet Saffron's eyes. She lets out a relived sigh and walks over to me, her eyes apologetic. "Harden was his son." She starts, but pauses trying to decide how to continue. "They were very close. He even joined the Regulators like his dad."

She scans my face, but I can only nod in understanding. No words seem appropriate to address the sorrow for a loved one lost. "Sammy's still asleep." Saffron chuckles weakly, trying to change the subject.

"He seemed pretty drunk when he arrived." I respond with an encouraging grin.

"He gets that way, but he never causes any real trouble." Her tone is lighter, but distracted. The sullen look on her face tells me it has something to do with Harden Simms.

"Just another town drunk?" I ask, trying to distract her from whatever thoughts threaten to carry her away.

"Who? Sammy?" She asks, registering my question. "He's a special case. Says he grew up in Little Lamplight until he was sixteen and went to start his new life in Big Town like he was supposed to. By the time he got there though, the Raiders had already taken over and…decorated the place."

"How'd he end up here? It's a good distance from Big Town if you don't know where you're going."

"Sammy's a lucky one. He stumbled across a trader who gave him directions, that was eight years ago." Saffron says softly, obviously recalling another memory. She lowers her head and a smile touches her lips. "You know, I'm supposed to be asking the questions."

"I didn't realize conversations were supposed to be one-sided." I counter, my tone teasing.

"Interrogations are." She leans a little closer, her smile wider now.

"What would you like to know miss interrogator?" I ask, playing the game.

"Who are you?" The sudden honesty of her question stuns me and I fumble for words.

"Just a homeless wanderer." I finally manage, almost in a whisper. The truth of that statement cuts me again, reopening the wounds of fear and uncertainty. Those are the new pillars of my life, having replaced discipline and understanding.

Our gaze holds for a long and awkward, but not uncomfortable, moment. Even in all the madness of recent events, she makes me feel hope and I silently curse her for it. Hope for something better than what I see now, a life filled with desperation and wanton violence.

Sammy stirs, moaning in his drunken sleep and she throws him a sideward glance. She looks at him with pity, the way a young child might see a lost puppy.

"You must know him pretty well." I muse, more to myself than anyone in particular. A surprised look flashes across her face, but only for an instant.

"I have to go." Saffron tells me in a low voice and starts for the door.

"Wait," I call out and she turns to look at me, a tired vulnerability in her eyes. "You never told me where you're from."

Without a word, she walks out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Things We Do**

**Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

Unable to sleep, I sit against the warm wall listening to the muffled sounds of the city. Even through the reinforced plates and heavy door, I can tell Megaton is a place filled with life. With its solid walls, basic comforts and distance from the Capital, it's an obvious destination for anyone fleeing the growing horrors of the Wastes. Apparently you only need to be approved by the Sheriff in order to claim sanctuary, but there's a catch. Only those deemed "eligible" are offered citizenship and allowed to buy property within the walls of the city, though no one could ever tell me for sure what constituted eligibility.

"Wha…Where am I?" I hear Sammy mumble.

"Jail." I reply giving him the same answer I'd received.

"Oh shit, not again." He mumbles and after a moment vomits, the sound of semi-solid liquid hitting the metal floor. "Aw shit, not again." Is all he says before collapsing back on the mattress.

"Sounds like you had a pretty rough night."

"I think I did pretty good. Body hurts, but I don't think I'm missin' any teeth." He keeps his voice low, but his tone is positive.

"Sounds like you're a regular." I keep my voice low, trying to accommodate his hangover.

"Yea, here and Red's." His tone is surprisingly friendly for someone who must have a hangover the size of a Yao Guai..

"Who's Red?"

"You must be pretty new around here if you don't know who Red is." He answers, obviously distracted by my ignorance.

"I collapsed in the Wastes and woke up here."

"You're lucky. I'm surprised the looters or critters didn't get to you first."

"Who's Red?" I ask again, trying to keep him on track.

"Oh, Red's the town doctor. She's a great doctor and a wonderful woman." Something in his voice tells me their relationship deeper than patient and doctor.

"Must be. I'll have to thank her." _I owe this woman my life after all._

"You should, she likes to know she's making a difference." His voice grows distant, like he's referring to a specific memory.

"Sounds like you know her pretty well." I used the statement to bring his wandering mind back to the moment.

"Like I said, I'm a regular in the clinic. In fact, I'll introduce you. I haven't stopped by in too long anyway." He tells me, his tone chipper for someone who just woke up in jail after a night of heavy drinking. Then again, he's probably used it by now.

"How long do usually they keep you for?"

"Depends on how much trouble I caused the night before." I can almost see the grin on his face.

"How much trouble did you cause last night?" I find myself curious, wanting to know more about the town drunk. Evan King's face comes to mind and I have to suppress the image_. He was a serious drunk, but he wasn't always that way._

"Honestly, I don't remember. Days and nights bleed together for me. You drink much?" _Obviously an opening line to invite me to drinks, probably hoping I'll buy._

"No, not much for alcohol."

"You should!" He groans as the volume of his own voice triggers another migraine. "Hooch in Megaton isn't great, but it's pretty good. In fact, the Stahls just concocted a new drink that I love. It's called toxic. Not sure what's in it, but man, is it good!" He moans again, the excitement in his voice too much to bear.

"You must really love the stuff." I reply, not sure whether Sammy is the really excitable type or just stupid.

"Yea, booze is great. What else are you gonna' do in a place like this?" His voice trails off, probably thinking of all the things he would rather do. _Everyone wants to accomplish something, no matter how bleak life is._ "Yea…what else you gonna' do…?"


	8. Chapter 8

The Things We Do

Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I wake up as the Sheriff is releasing Sammy from his cell. He's about my height, but thinner with a malnourished look to him. His eyes are sunken in with dark circles underneath and his skin pale. He drags his feet with effort, as if his shoes were filled with cement. He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder to give me a tired wave.

Sammy tries to walk out the door, but the Sheriff grips his arm fast and easily pulls him close. Lucas whispers something in his ear and they lock eyes. Sammy has the look of desperation, like he was just given an impossible ultimatum. With that, the Sheriff shoves him roughly out the door and slams it closed.

He stands there a moment before turning to look at me. The fire still evident, but controlled; reminding me of the white-hot metal. He walks towards me with his fists balled. His steps are heavy, but hesitant.

He pulls the key from his duster and my adrenaline begins to surge, every fiber in my being warning me of the impending danger. He opens the cage and steps to the side, clearing a path to freedom.

"Get out." He growls underneath his breath, his jaw tightening with rage. I stand slowly, my aches having been replaced by surging blood and pounding in my ears. "Get out." He growls again, the words drawn out and more menacing than before. I exit the cage, never taking my eyes off him. He points to the door leading outside and narrows his eyes. I stand my ground, not sure whether this is a trap to justify shooting me.

"GET OUT!" He screams, jabbing his finger towards the door to underscore his message. Still confused, I walk the length of the room backwards to the door. I turn the knob, pushing it ajar.

"I need my stuff." I tell him, trying to keep my voice calm. He grinds his teeth, pure rage threatening to override his sense of duty.

"Go to the Armory." Is all he can manage. Not wanting to test him any further, I quickly make my exit. The afternoon sun blinds me and causes me to nearly fall down the steps, the rusty railing saving me from another trip to Red's. I quickly stumble my way through the portions lit by the sunlight and find a shady area underneath a building on stilts.

I sit there a while, allowing my eyes to adjust to the setting sun casting long shadows over the city's inhabitants. I take a deep breath of fresh air, the dull pain in my sides a small price to pay for the smell of something familiar.

Resting at the bottom of the hill, I see the famous town center – an undetonated nuclear bomb. Most people believe it's still active, but the rumor was that the Lone Wanderer had disarmed it in exchange for citizenship here in Megaton. Regardless, the monstrosity sits unassumingly in a toxic puddle while someone makes a long-winded speech about the "Atom". Most passersby simply ignore the man and continue about their business, but a few stop to listen or snicker.

A drunk man from a nearby bar engages him in a debate, eventually accusing the man of trying to "muddle the human gene pool." He gets so animated, his friends have to drag him away lest he start a fight. To the speaker's credit, he keeps his sermon going the entire time. He even uses the incident to underscore his point about the need for ego-less, pain-free existence through the Great Division.

As dusk settles in, I feel sharper, more aware and able to think. _I guess spending a lifetime living in darkness causes one to have certain…preferences._ I see now that the little sign on the metal post I've been sitting in front of reads "Local Cult" and points up a ramp. There's a huge circular ornament on one of the roofs to my right, lit up as if signifying the greatness of its magnificently useless achievement.

With a majority of the population starting to head indoors, I walk towards the town's center piece and find Red's clinic immediately to my left. Walking up a short ramp, I hesitate not knowing whether I should knock or simply enter. I end up going with the former, not wanting to chance being labeled a "Thief" on top of "Mass Murderer."

"Come in." Comes a pleasant female voice through the door.

I open the door and wince at the bright lights illuminating the clinic, instinctively shielding my eyes. "Don't just stand there, come in." The voice bids me.

It takes a moment longer for my eyes to adjust, but I'm greeted by a woman seated at a desk, probably in her mid-thirties, dressed in a stained red jumpsuit, matching bandana and glasses. _I think it's safe to assume this woman is Red. _

"I heard you were feeling better." Her tone suggesting that she knows my side of the story about Arefu.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me." I reply, wishing I had something to offer to show her my gratitude. "I owe you my life."

"You should be careful who you say things like that to, they might take you seriously." She gives me a smile that's unrestrained, genuine.

I return her smile, a bit at a loss for words as I realize I didn't think this through as well as I should have. "Could you give me some directions around town? I've never been here before." Is the best that I can muster, making me feel a bit foolish.

"Sure, though most of the town is closed for the night. The only thing left open is Moriarty's Saloon. You can rent a room there for the night or you could head to the Common House, but I don't know how welcome you'd be there."

"I was actually hoping you could tell me where the Armory is. Sheriff Simms told me that my belongings were there."

"It's a bit confusing, but I can show you the way. Though, there are only two people in town that can actually get you in."

I knew the answer before I asked, but I had to make sure. "Who can I talk to about getting my stuff?"

"The Sheriff and Saffron. You might be able to catch him making his rounds, but I doubt Saffron will be out. She usually goes home pretty early, she's not really the type to end up at Moriarty's."

_I'd blame Simms, but he probably wants me gone more than I really want to leave. It's hard to admit, but the feeling of security behind the massive walls of Megaton starts to grown on you pretty quick. _"Thanks anyway." I tell Red and turn to leave.

"Why don't you stay a bit? The clinic is empty and I'm going to be up for a while." She tells me, leaning forward in her chair.

"I'm flattered, but I..."


	9. Chapter 9

The Things We Do

Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

Red's laughter cuts my sentence short. "No, it's nothing like that. You're cute and all, but I was hoping to talk to you about some other things." Her tone is light and playful. Judging by the look of her I imagine Red has probably seen some horrible things out in the Wastes, but she still manages to keep a buoyancy that intrigues me.

"Like?"

"Well, Saffron told me you're a hematophage. Is that true?" _Apparently even a woman like Saffron needs a confidant._

"Yes, but I would like to keep that quiet. It's a topic most people don't have a real understanding about."

"Exactly, I'd like you to tell me about it. Say…in exchange for blood packs?" _Smart woman, I wonder what else she wants to talk about._

"Sure, I don't have anywhere else to be." _It's the truth and this sounds much more promising than ending up at the local bar. _

"Fantastic, let's move somewhere a little more comfortable." She leads me to a room just large enough for the three beds placed within. The springs creak in protest as I slowly place myself on the raised frame, my aching body thankful that I don't have to go all the way to the floor.

I tell her about what I was taught and what I've learned through experience about hematophages. How we can survive purely off of blood, our bodies somehow able to extract the vital nutrients through the crimson oil to make us as healthy as a person living off food and water.

Our conversation soon diverges to the Laws of The Family, the lifestyle, and even the practices of meditation used to achieve the level of control necessary to stave off the hunger for human flesh. There's something comforting about her presence, reminding me of my mother_. _At one point I almost let it slip, but stop myself not wanting to answer the questions that would likely follow.

It seems like we've been conversing for hours when she asks, "What's your impression of Saffron?" There's a twinkle in her eye, like a parent finding out about her child's first crush.

"What do you mean?" I had been expecting something along this line of questioning, but had no idea it would be so thinly veiled.

"Not very good at the emotional thing, huh?" She asks me with a grin. "You know what I mean, just answer the question."

"She's very intelligent, strong and excellent at…" I consider my next words carefully, knowing they'll be relayed to Saffron. "negotiations and interrogations."

"That's a very diplomatic answer." Red replies, crossing her arms and sounding disappointed. "You understand the real question, I'm sure."

I nod my head in agreement with a grin, but give her no further answer. _To admit how absolutely enthralled I am with that woman would be a very big, possibly fatal, mistake._ Seeing no clarification forthcoming, she leans back against the wall.

"You know, I thought you'd be more open to someone who has got Saffron's ear." A seriousness I haven't seen crosses her face.

"I don't think it's safe to talk about this with someone you don't know. Especially concerning someone so integral to the city." I respond, meaning every word.

She gives me a heartfelt smile, as if I'd just told her I was going to fix the ills in her world. "She needs someone like you." I can see that she too, means every word.

"I don't think she needs anyone." I believe that until I hear the words, but it sounds ridiculous. _Saffron obviously needs a confidant, why wouldn't she need others? She is human after all. _

She laughs and for a moment I think it's to mock me, but there's no hint of malice in her voice. "You have no idea. She's been alone a long time. She's cut herself off emotionally from almost everyone, but trying to help them at the same time. She needs someone like you."

"You said almost everyone, why not someone she already knows?" Still, I can't help deny the flutter of excitement and hope that enters my heart. It takes every ounce of my will to extinguish that flame, unable to allow myself such a dangerous thing as attachment or hope. "Besides, you have no idea who I am; all of this could be a lie. I could have leveled Arefu just to see it burn." Something about this conversation starts to stir my emotions and not in a good way.

Red looks at me a moment and laughs. Her reaction catches me off-guard and I find myself envious of how easily laughter comes to her. "Because you're so big and scary." She teases, drawing out each word. "You can't fool me, I've seen them all. Raiders, Slavers, Lunatics. Hell, I was even held by Super Mutants in Germantown Police Station once. Luckily for me, Vaultie came to my rescue. That woman was something else..." I almost expect her to launch into a full-blown story, but she loses herself in thought.

"Held by Super Mutants? I thought they just killed people and took the corpses." I ask, snapping her out of fond memories.

"They do that too, but the ones that came from Germantown wouldn't kill us outright. Don't get me wrong, we lost a lot of people to bullets and…sledgehammers," She quivers a bit at the mention of the weapon. "But they'd carry off more people alive. They ate some of us and the others…well, I don't know where they went. I just know none of them came back. Only me and Shorty ever made it out of that place." Her voice is low as if she's still hiding from them.

"You mentioned a Vaultie?" I press, trying to bring her back from the dark corners of her mind.

"Vaultie is what I call the Lone Wanderer. I like to think we were good friends. She'd stop by Big Town and ask me to patch her up, even though she was much better at it than I was. Probably just wanted to give me some experience 'cause that's just the way she was. Always trying to look out for other people, I guess that's what happens when you're raised locked up in a Vault." She smiles a little to herself, reliving old memories. "Of course, that was before the Raiders got so bad we had to leave." The moment fades as she relives another, more painful memory.

"How long did you live in Big Town?" I ask, a plan beginning to form.

"Six, maybe seven years. We were so busy trying not to end up a slave or dinner or just plain dead that we didn't keep track of things like time."

"Can you draw me a detailed map of the town?"

"Sure, but you know it's going to be different from what I remember. Don't you?" She asks, giving me a concerned look.

"I'm sure they haven't changed too much, I just need a rough idea of what the place looks like on the inside." As I finish my sentence, Red's eyes go wide with understanding.

"You're not planning what I think you are." It's a statement rather than a question.

"To make the world a better place." I respond with a fake smile, unwilling to tell her that it's a substitute revenge against the Super Mutants who died with everyone else in Arefu.

"Oh, that's convincing…It's suicide, you know that don't you?" She looks into my eyes, scanning for answers. "You do, but you're going anyway. Is it for your family? For the people who died at Arefu? You getting yourself killed won't bring them back." She tells me sternly, like a mother giving her grown son life lessons.

"I know, but it's something I have to do." My voice is low, but determined.

"Ugh, men." She lets out a defeated sigh, as though this were a battle she'd waged many times before. "Fine. I'll help you, but with on one condition."

"Name it." _I won't be alive anyway._


	10. Chapter 10

The Things We Do

Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

I hide in Red's clinic for the next couple of days while making preparations for the assault on Big Town. I spend the time committing the hand-drawn map to memory, getting supplies, and catching up on my rest.

Memorizing the map was simple enough as all the houses' layouts were identical, right down to the number of windows in each room. Getting supplies was a bit harder because the people who'd brought me in decided to steal anything I wasn't wearing or holding in exchange for saving my life.

Luckily, Red had some personal investment in seeing me succeed. She took me to the Craterside Supply and allowed me to pick whatever I needed, within a certain budget of course. She even convinced Moira Brown, an eccentric to say the least, to let us in afterhours so I could avoid the sun and the curious onlookers who kept coming into the Clinic with fake injuries to see 'the man who blew up Arefu'.

Moira looks to be in her 30's with a dirty blue RobCo jumpsuit, green eyes, and red hair tied into a bun. I listen to the conversation between her and Red, chuckling as Moira rambles from one line of thought to another. It's almost as if her thoughts fall directly out of her mouth and have to go back through her ears in order for to be processed.

"So, I hear you blew up Arefu." Moira tells me as I put the materials on the counter in front of her. Her chipper tone doesn't match the weight of her words, but she seems not to notice.

"That's right." I reply, my voice low and a little resentful at the awkward opening for a conversation.

"That's too bad. You know, I bet the Super Mutants would stop eating people if we could just tell them how much we didn't like it." Her tone is thoughtful and the look on her face tells me she's sincere. I'm shocked, confused, and don't know if she's naïve or just stupid. I can hear Red chuckling behind me and wonder if this is what she had in mind all along. "I bet if I could just get some real experience with them, I could find a way to talk to them. Hey, you look like…" Her voice trails off as she's suddenly immersed in the contents of the pile in front of her. "Ooh, looks like you're building a Nuka-Grenade." Moira suddenly blurts out with unrestrained excitement.

"That's right." I say, still not sure what to make of her.

"Ooh, I made this great formula for Nuka-Cola that works great!" Her voice rising with thrill of sharing her invention."Great for what?" Something about this woman makes me guarded, careful like she's going to suggest something insane or suicidal. _Maybe this is exactly what I need._

"Well, no one's actually drank it yet, but it's perfectly safe. I mean, I've dropped it a couple of times and it didn't explode so that's pretty safe, right? You know, I was really worried the first time because I only had one bottle and I would have to start all over again if it exploded. Not that I would have anything to make it with because all my stuff is in here...""You said the new Nuka-Cola is great for what?" I have to cut her off lest she never come back to the issue at hand."Oh, it works great for a lot of things! It glows really bright and it gets oil off your fingers, but it gets sticky sometimes and can burn your skin if you don't wash it off quick enough...""How does it work in a Nuka-Grenade?" _She's easily distracted, but hopefully she knows what she's talking about._"You know, I don't know. Say, since you're going to make one anyway how about you make it with this instead and tell me happens? Ooh, take great notes and tell me all about it!"

"Alright let me see it." A feeling of dread hits me like a sledgehammer as I watch her run into the back room, a look of excitement on her face.

An old conversation with my father comes to mind. "There are people, things and places in the world that should be avoided at all costs. Only during times of dire need should you approach them." I sigh knowing this excitable, air-headed queen of junk should be avoided at all costs, but these are times of dire need.

She comes skipping out of the back room, clipping her own feet causing Red and I to hold our breath as the eerily glowing bottle almost escapes her grasp. She stumbles a few heavy steps before Red catches her and steadies the mentally unstable woman.

"Here you go, isn't it neat?" She holds the bottle out to me, Red still holding on to her. The thing glows a deep purple, the different chemicals swirling captivatingly in the small glass bottle. I take it unsure of its the contents, but knowing it'll be safer in my hands than hers.

"What's in it?" I ask, trying not to jostle the thing.

"Well, I thought if I could get the good parts of Psycho, but not the ba…"

"You mixed Nuka-Cola with Psycho?"

"That's right! That's what makes it that color and gives it those swirls. Neat, huh?"

"Yeah, neat." _I hope I'm not going to regret this._


	11. Chapter 11

The Things We Do

Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

It's another cool night in the Wastelands.

The moon and stars are out in full force, giving the sands an ethereal glow as a soft wind brings with it the smell of burnt flesh. The scene reminds of me something, but the Sheriff brushes past cutting the thought short. Sammy, Lucas, and I make our way quietly up a small hill directly north of Big Town. Being only about 500 ft. from the rope bridge, which serves as the only unhindered entrance, makes this an obvious spot for recon and is probably well watched on most nights. Luckily for us, the Raiders seem busy celebrating another day's exploits. I can feel my heart beating furiously, the thumping so loud it begins to drown out the rowdy Raiders. I take deep breaths, willing my heart to slow down and my body to relax.

Though I didn't see Saffron before leaving, she did somehow convince Lucas to come grudgingly along. I imagine she reminded him that the Raiders, not me, had ambushed Harden and the other Regulators while they investigated the remnants Arefu. This fact however, didn't seem to effect the Sheriff's judgment of me.

Sammy on the other hand, couldn't be dissuaded from joining us. Red had told Sammy about the plan so I could trade him for the Sniper Rifle, but he refused. He said he had made a promise to himself to one day avenge all of his former friends who'd been killed when the Raiders stormed Big Town. I of all people couldn't deny the man his chance for vengeance.

I take the sniper rifle from Sammy and look through its scope. _It seems like a lifetime since I was last here, looking down on a similar scene. Similar, but different in the worst ways._ A 10 ft. wall surrounds the entire complex made of old cars, trucks, sandbags and whatever else they could scavenge or steal. There're also sentries on the rooftops and guards at the front entrance, but they're typical Raiders. Easily distracted, easily confused and rarely able to look past the sadistic opportunities presented to them. I continue to survey when something calls my attention to the large bonfire at the base of a dark curling column of smoke. I spot the gory details and look away.

"Three on the rooftops, another at the entrance and eight around the fire. There's going to be women and children in the houses." I convey in a hushed tone.

The Sheriff looks at me skeptically and takes the rifle, nearly snatching it from my hands. "I don't see no women or children." He says, still looking through the scope.

"They're celebrating new acquisitions." I reply, my tone cold.

"How do you know?" Lucas presses, sounding irritated at my cryptic response.

"Look at what's causing all that smoke."

Lucas scans for another moment before he catches sight of it. Three bodies tied to a post in the middle of the fire, their charred corpses nearly unrecognizable. He hands the rifle back to Sammy, who looks a little scared and edgy. He puts his eye to the scope and after a moment, gags. _Sammy's apparently a good shot and experienced, but I doubt he's stupid enough to have done anything like this before._

"Don't you start that shit boy or I'll put holes in you m'self." Lucas growls.

I turn to Sammy and tell him, "You get setup and I'll head down. Remember to take out the snipers first, but wait for my signal."

"Your signal?" The Sheriff sounds pissed at my obvious disregard for his sense of authority.

"Look Sheriff, the first one down there is going to be the bait. If you get shot, who's going to protect Megaton? Me?" Our eyes lock for a moment, but he grudgingly looks away conceding defeat.

"Remember, wait for my signal." I tell Sammy again. "Don't forget those snipers and don't look at the explosion. I need you to get the jump on these guys while they're blinded." I give him an encouraging grin, hiding my own doubts. He responds in kind with a nervous grin. "You with me on this Sheriff?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't expect me to cry if you end up eatin' it asshole." Something tells me that he might try to shoot me after this is done, but it doesn't matter now.

I go back down the hill and use the uneven terrain to cover my approach to a small drainage ditch across a paved street from the entrance. I stand up slowly, using the lower footing and the remnants of a rusting guardrail to keep me concealed. About twenty feet to my left is a boarded up home, but those twenty feet are in plain view.

I have to wait for my opportunity, to do otherwise on a night so bright would certainly guarantee attention. The time drags on and I feel the knot in my stomach growing larger, the realization that this plan is suicidal creeps on the horizon. I take a deep, slow breath and will my muscles to relax. I focus the fear surging wildly through me to a laser point, listing all the different possible actions I could take. After a couple of minutes, I start drawing blanks and wonder if I'm even going to be able to make it back up the hill without being spotted. The knot gets larger, the ill feeling in the pit of my stomach growing more urgent. I try to calm myself again, but all I want to do is wretch. Then, my chance presents itself. A drunken Raider with an impressive mohawk stumbles to the guard at the front and begins speaking animatedly. I watch as the guard snatches the bottle out of the drunk's hand and a scuffle ensues.

As they tangle up, I sprint across those twenty feet like the wind. _Don't look, don't stop. Run! _Without waiting for confirmation of my successful run, I sneak across the paved street and press myself against the make-shift walls of the compound. _Ten foot walls may hold up against large groups, but can be used to the advantage of a single infiltrator. _

I follow the piled cars and twisted metal around to the back of the fort, directly across from the main entrance. I make note of a hole large enough to see the bonfire and continue towards the scrap yard. After a minute of searching, I find what I'm looking for. A section of cars piled just right, making it the ideal spot to climb over. I head towards the back of the compound and find the hole again. I judge the distance to the bonfire and pull out the "special" Nuka-Grenade from my pouch. Taking a few steps back, I heave it over the wall and start running. I'm almost at the scrap yard when a massive explosion erupts, knocking me off my feet and sending large chunks of metal flying through the air. _Improved, no kidding...wonder what happens if someone actually drinks the stuff._

The thought is short-lived as I pick myself up and run, a weird chemical stink hanging in the air. Climbing over the twisted wreckage, I hear the first shot ring out quickly followed by a second and a third. I peek over the top of a burnt-out car and spot a sniper about 30 feet from me, crouched on a rooftop with his sight set to the north. I pull out a frag grenade and rip the pin, quickly surveying the chaotic scene of Raiders yelling orders at one another; their symphony echoing into the night. I lob the explosive on to the roof, getting it within a foot of the sniper, but he doesn't hear the telltale 'clink' over the commotion. Gore flies through the air as the roof caves in, followed by more screaming and yelling.

Dropping over the wall into a crouched position, a feeling of dread starts to fill my mind as I realize there's no gunplay. _No time to worry about that, I've already crossed the point of no return._ Pressing up against a wall of the caved-in building, I risk a look around the corner. Three Raiders are filing out of a house across main clearing, automatics in hand. I can hear them yelling, obviously still deaf from the blast, as I pull another grenade and release the pin; counting a full second before throwing.

The timing is perfect. The fist-sized harbinger of death explodes at chest-height right in the middle of their huddle, creating a bright display of smoldering limbs and crimson. All this free-flowing blood awakens a primal urge, threatening to cloud my judgment. I take another deep breath, taking more of the floating chemicals into my lungs. _Have to focus on the moment. On survival. _

My sprint to the next building is across ten feet of open ground and I hear the unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire to my right, bullets whizzing past my head. I dive, rolling to my feet behind the house as the gunman continues to spray lead into the metal frame. I can hear him laughing maniacally as he lets loose on the house, emptying an entire clip without changing positions. I quietly enter through the back door, sword in hand. I feel so full of energy I can't keep myself from shaking. My heart is racing, clouding my thinking. All I want to do is act. No plan. No strategy. Simply act.

"Focus!" I growl to myself angrily.

The first room is a mess of blood and limbs in various stages of decay. The stench is sour and metallic, the kind of smell that turns your stomach. To my right is a kitchen covered in more blood with severed limbs on the counters and used plates, pieces of still-poached gore on their forks. Half crouched, I move quietly to the next room looking for any sign of movement. All about are dirty mattresses, tattered clothing and empty bottles. A bathroom to my left is half filled with reeking filth and a heavy porcelain tub.

I crack the front door open and am greeted by a hail of bullets, sending bits of metal and wood everywhere. _Where the fuck are you Simms? What the hell are you waiting for Sammy?_ Ducking into the bathroom, I check my pouches. My heart sinks as I wrap my fingers around a lone grenade. I'm checking the area for anything of use when the utter silence calls my attention. No gunfire, no footsteps, not even the usual taunting that Raiders are known for.

I creep back to the door and look through one of the larger holes. Standing out front is a Raider, flamethrower at the ready. I drop to the floor as a stream of fire and laughter burst through numerous bullet-sized openings. I instinctively roll towards the kitchen, fleeing from the intense heat and dripping flames. Thick, black smoke begins to fill the room as the ceiling and walls fuel the ravenous fire.

I can barely hear the Raiders laughing over my racing heart as the inferno grows larger, claiming everything in the front room. The small house filling with suffocating smoke, I look out the boarded up kitchen window and spot two Raiders, a man and a woman, with assault rifles too busy laughing to notice me.

I quickly grab a bloodied knife from the kitchen and check the door, not remembering if I pulled or pushed to get in. It opens out. _You lucky bastard. _A grin tugs at the corner of my lips in grim satisfaction at the thought of being able to die fighting.

Switching the knife to my right hand and the sword to my left, I stand in front of the door listening to the rising laughter of the two guarding my exit. I take a short, smoke-clogged breath and in a single motion kick the door open, throw the knife into the woman and roll at the remaining Raider. I stand up underneath the surprised man's rifle, the sharp metal sliding easily into the his exposed flesh.

His rifle clatters to the ground as the warm, sticky liquid oozes over my hand. The metallic smell exhilarates me, making my blood surge even faster. Looking deep into his eyes, something brings a smile to my face. Something very intimate and disturbing. I extract the slender blade, the Raider still too shocked to call out as he drops, unable to support his own weight.

He continues to mouth words as I kick the rifle out of his reach and swipe the sword across his throat, quickening his demise. Moving to my first victim, I struggle to free the knife from her face and snap the blade in the process. Tossing the handle aside, I make my way back towards the house with the caved-in roof. The fire in my veins begins to cool. My breathing slows again, matching the pace of my heart. I can still hear the ones out front, their laughter rising with the shooting flames as they watch the place burn.

I open the door, dust and dirt still heavy in the air. I climb over dead bodies and debris, stopping to finish off a trapped Raider. Finding a solid foothold, I hoist myself onto the precarious roof as quietly as possible. Finding a good position I raise my head a little and spot the four Raiders, including the one with the flamethrower, already drinking as they watch the beautiful spectacle. I reach for the remaining grenade and release the pin. Wanting to make it count, I take another look over the side and toss it.

As I watch my little minion of destruction fly through the air, the roof around me explodes into pieces of shrapnel with a cacophony of gunshots. I duck my head back, but can't avoid the sharp pain in my cheek and burning on my tongue. I spit out the hot metal, the blood flowing freely into my mouth sending me into a near frenzy. I struggle for control, barely fighting off the deep hunger to maintain my sanity. Then the grenade detonates, setting off the flamethrower's tank and sending me tumbling back into the house.


	12. Chapter 12

The Things We Do

Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout or any related materials. **

"Who are you?" I hear Saffron asking, her sweet voice distant and fading.

"Just a homeless wanderer." I whisper, feeling tired and alone.

A blinding pain breaks through the fog, making me agonizingly aware of my own body. _My head hurts. And left shoulder. I hurt all over. I feel groggy. Tired. Mouth feels sticky. And crusty. I taste blood. I feel…full._ I turn lazily on to my right side and push myself up into a sitting position, my head rolling like it's too heavy for my neck to support. I wretch, the viscous liquid kicking up dust. I can see its crimson color in the flickering light from the dying fire. _Chunks. There're chunks of meat_.

Still dazed, but I begin to feel absolutely ill at the realization of what I've done. Raising my eyes, I see bloodied corpses and limbs scattered all about the clearing. Climbing to my feet, I look down at my bloodied hands and clothes. I double over, violently expelling more evidence of my sins. I want to run and leave it all behind, but my drive for vengeance coupled with new found self-loathing demands I find more victims for my wrath.

After dislodging the sword from the back of a nearby Raider I being to clear each house hoping for an ambush around every corner and doorway, but find no such thing. Instead, I find the horrors left behind. Bodies of all different ages and sex, all obviously having been subjected to horrible acts. After checking the last house, I scavenge anything of value into a pair of pants I've tied-off to make bag. Slinging the clanking sack over my shoulder, I numbly begin my trek away from the proof of my failure knowing that I can never return to who I was.

_Exile. That is the punishment for failing to abide by the Laws. _

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**AN: Thanks for reading! As some of you will notice, I've deleted the several chapters that came after this one because I felt that they were too different. For those of you who want to keep reading about Meral, I've moved deleted chapters to a new story titled "The Terribly Great Visionary". Thanks again for reading, hope you enjoyed it!  
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